


He Puts The 'E' In Evil

by ZombieBabs



Series: Search for Coralee (Crossover 'Verse) [2]
Category: How To Succeed In Evil (Trilogy) - Patrick E. McLean, The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing their search for Coralee, Alex and Strand meet with two very strange men. One claims to be an Evil Efficiency Consultant and the other, well, he seems to be a very, <i>very</i> drunk lawyer.</p><p>*Edited 7.28.17</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Puts The 'E' In Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers all through the How To Succeed In Evil trilogy. I would recommend the series, but it's not necessary to have read the books to understand the fic. (If you're interested, two of the series are available through the iTunes podcast app, performed by the author.)

The man who greets them is somehow taller than Strand. He _towers_ over Alex in an impeccably tailored suit. He doesn't smile.

Alex watches as the two men study each other over a brief handshake, before the tall man turns his attention on Alex. His hand swallows her own, but his grip is careful, yet firm.

“Edwin Windsor,” he says. “Pleased to meet you.”

"Alex Reagan. I'm a reporter for--"

“Don’t forget me!” 

The high-pitched voice which interrupts her comes from a short man, standing just behind Windsor. He barely comes up to Windsor’s hip, accentuating Windsor's height while making the other man seem that much shorter. Alex didn't noticed him, at first, too busy staring up at the skyscraper of a man before her.

The short man ignores Strand, going straight for Alex. He pushes out his hand toward her, which Alex takes. “Heya, toots. I’m Topper. Big E’s lawyer.”

“Alex,” she says. She tries not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of him. She’s toured breweries that have reeked less like booze.

“Your lawyer,” Strand says.

“In my line of work," Windsor says, "it’s best to have good counsel. And Topper is the best.”

“Damn right, I am!” shouts Topper.

With an elegant sweep of his arm, Windsor ushers them into his office. “Please, take a seat.”

The room is huge, custom built, perhaps, to accommodate Windsor’s size. The decor is sparse, but tasteful in its minimalism. The desk, all gleaming mahogany, is taller and wider than any desk Alex has ever seen.

Windsor sits. Topper climbs up onto a stool at Windsor’s side. Windsor indicates the two wing back chairs across from him. Alex and Strand sit.

“How, exactly, do you know my wife?” Strand asks.

“Geez, gettin’ right to the point. You don’t want refreshments or nothin’?” Topper pulls out a flask from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and jiggles it back and forth.

Windsor frowns.

“It’s barely nine in the morning,” Alex says.

“So?” Topper asks. “Better to start early, I always say.”

“Topper,” Windsor says. His tone is even, but Alex still recognizes it as a warning.

“Fine, fine. Serious business. You got it, beanpole.” Topper puts away the flask, but not before he takes a quick swig of its contents. 

“To answer your question simply, Dr. Strand: your wife hired me.”

Alex waits for the giant to continue, but he sits there, his expression showing no emotion.

“For what purpose?”

“I’m afraid I cannot say.”

“Client privilege!” Topper adds, pumping his fist in the air.

Beside her, Strand scowls. His shoulders are a rigid line of tension. He balls his hands into fists.

Alex puts her hand on his arm. He relaxes, but only marginally.

Alex tries another tactic. “What is it that you do, Mr. Windsor? We couldn’t find very much online. Just that you’re a consultant of some kind.”

“I’m an efficiency consultant.”

“For businesses?”

“Not quite.”

Before Alex can ask Windsor what he means, Topper chimes in. “Don’t be modest, E! He’s a genius, he really is. He was a consultant to super-villains for a while. Then we ran an insurance company--the best in the business, I might add--until Edwin faked his death and I gave it all up for superpowers. We’ve got even bigger plans in the works, I tells ya. We’re going to be on top of the world!” 

Topper laughs, loud and close to maniacal, as Strand and Alex both stare.

Annoyance flashes through Windsor’s eyes, but he doesn’t refute any of Topper’s claims.

“Surely you are joking,” Strand says.

“I do not jest, Dr. Strand. It is inefficient.”

“You’re saying you’re a consultant to super-villains?”

Strand gives Alex a look, like he can’t believe she’s going along with any of this madness. But if they’re here, she might as well try to get as much information out of the two strange men as she can. Windsor’s name, found on a receipt in a box of Coralee’s possessions, has been their only solid lead in weeks.

“Was, yes,” Windsor says. “I found it to be...disagreeable.”

“Because the super-villains were evil?”

“No way!” Topper shouts. “Those idiots wouldn’t listen. Lasers in space, one guy wanted. Can you believe that? Those chumps were just bad guys. Little ‘b,’ little ‘g.’ Edwin here puts the big ‘E’ in Evil, dontcha pal?”

Strand looks ready to burst out of his seat. “Even if what you're saying is true--which I highly doubt--why would my wife seek out the help of a so-called ‘evil efficiency consultant?’”

“All I can say is the matter was of a delicate nature. Your wife is a very smart woman, Dr. Strand.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex asks.

“Because she took my advice.”

“And that’s all the information you can give us?”

Windsor folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “I will say this. You will not find her, unless she wishes to be found.”

Strand stands up, using his full height, for all the good it does against a man several inches taller than his six and a half foot frame. “Where is my wife?”

Alex flinches at the fury in Strand’s tone. Even Topper looks up from the game on his phone. Windsor simply looks at him, the same non-expression on his face.

“Please,” Windsor says, “do not make me call security.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Windsor." Alex pushes at Strand, who resists only for a moment. Even as she drags Strand toward the door, his furious eyes remain glued to Windsor. "We were just leaving.”

Topper stands on his stool. He waves at them with the full range of his short arm. He laughs and calls out. “See ya! Wouldn't want to be ya!”

In the passenger seat of their rental car, it takes Strand several minutes to calm down. Alex watches warily as he closes his eyes and breathes. Eventually, he leans back into the seat and sighs.

“So,” Alex says, trying to break the tension. “Super-villains, huh?”

Strand laughs, relaxing even further. “Obviously, those two men are insane.”

Alex smiles and turns the key in the ignition. “Obviously.”

At least now they have some kind of proof Coralee is alive. And she has faith, no matter what kind of genius the 'evil efficiency' consultant supposedly is, she and Strand will find her.

**Author's Note:**

> *Edited 7.28.17


End file.
